


The Boy in the Book

by Hogwarts_Riddle



Series: The Bride of Voldemort Universe [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Secret Relationship, Tom Riddle's Diary, Very Secret Diary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-13 12:09:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29028486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hogwarts_Riddle/pseuds/Hogwarts_Riddle
Summary: Everything changes for Hermione when she stumbles across a strange diary one evening in Fifth Year.Artwork by Arctickidart
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Tom Riddle
Series: The Bride of Voldemort Universe [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2150964
Comments: 12
Kudos: 102





	The Boy in the Book

* * *

It all began in fifth year. It was springtime and Hermione was helping Madam Pince re-organize the shelves, something that she regularly volunteered to do, either because she had free time or simply because she enjoyed organizing, when she came across a strange book wedged into a shelf at the very back of the library. It was small, both in thickness and in height, with a faded, untitled black cover.

Having never seen it before, she carefully pried it out with her fingers to see what it was. After a few attempts, she managed to get it loose without any damage to the frail book. Turning it over and blowing the dust off, she realized that it wasn’t a book at all, but rather a diary

“That’s odd,” Hermione mumbled to herself.

Why would someone leave a diary there of all places? Had it been left there on purpose, or had it been forgotten? It certainly wasn’t the safest place to hide it, if that was the owners intention. And from the state of the book, it appeared to have been left there a long time ago.

Casting a quick glance around to make sure that Madam Pince was nowhere in sight, she slid over to a nearby desk and began to flip through the delicate cream pages. She was almost done re-organizing, and she figured that she was entitled to at least a small break. It wasn’t as if she intended to read too far. Just far enough to tell her who the diary belonged to so that she could try and return it to its rightful owner.

Much to her surprise, the diary was completely empty, not even a paragraph written throughout the whole book. The only bit of writing she found was the name ‘T. M. Riddle’, written on the front page in faded black ink, along with the name of a newsagent’s in Vauxhall Road, London.

T. M. Riddle…

The name wasn’t one she could recall ever hearing before. She would have to ask a teacher to be completely sure, but she didn’t think there was a single student at Hogwarts currently with that name. It must have belonged to someone who had already graduated.

She knew that she ought to have handed it in to Madam Pince, or maybe even Dumbledore, but for some inexplicable reason, she felt drawn to it. As if there was something in it that she was meant to find. Taking out her wand, she cast a variety of different spells; one that was meant to reveal things that were hidden by magic, as well as one that reversed the effects of invisible ink.

No matter what she tried, nothing happened. The pages remained blank.

However, Hermione was nothing if not determined. Just because all of her previous attempts had failed, didn’t mean that there was nothing there. It only meant that she hadn’t found the right way yet. 

Studying it for a while longer, she attempted to think of ways that a young witch or wizard might try to protect this journal from prying eyes. If it were her diary, she would probably try to outsmart any unwanted readers, using a method that they wouldn’t think to try.

That’s when it hit her.

Summoning her bag from where she had left it by the front desk, she pulled out her quill and inkpot, and dipping her quill into the ink let a drop fall onto one of the pages. The ink blot didn’t even have a minute to sink in before it vanished from sight in the blink of an eye.

Hermione grinned triumphantly.

Dipping her quill into the ink again, she began to write.

_‘My name is Hemione Granger.’_

Just as before, the ink faded from view within seconds after she finished. However, she was taken aback when, moments later, a new set of words appeared, written in the same ink but not by her own hand. The handwriting was spidery and neat, different from her own.

_‘Hello, Hermione Granger. My name is Tom Riddle. Thank you for finding my diary.’_

She hardly had enough time to process what she had just read before the pages of the diary in front of her began to shine brightly, forcing her to shield her eyes. A few moments later, when the blinding light subsided and she was able to see again, she found that the diary had closed on itself. Not only that, but there was a handsome young man with dark hair, dressed in Slytherin robes, sitting across from her.

“Hermione Granger, I presume?” the young man asked.

All Hermione could do was nod in response, her mind trying to come to terms with what had just happened.

“As I just said, my name is Tom Riddle,” he introduced himself. “I must say, I was beginning to wonder if anyone was ever going to find me.”

“You mean to say that you were trapped inside that diary? For how long?”

“Not trapped, per say. I simply preserved a memory of myself inside so that a part of me would always remain at Hogwarts. As for how long, well, that would depend on what the year is.”

“The current year is 1996. I’m in my fifth year.”

“I am in my sixth year, or rather I was, in 1943.”

Hermione couldn’t believe her ears. He had been stuck in that diary for over fifty years! She couldn’t even begin to understand how that must have felt. It couldn’t have been fun. Then again, he did claim to have placed himself inside on purpose.

“Well, Tom, I must say that whatever you did to the diary, it was quite the brilliant bit of magic, and I’ll admit, it took me a bit to figure out. I haven’t been challenged like that in a while. It was refreshing.”

“I know what you mean. Hogwarts lost its challenge for me too. I’ve had to invent new ways to make use of my abilities.”

It surprised her to hear that. To most, the thrill of being at Hogwarts never seemed to wear off, but to her, it had lost its thrill years ago. At the end of the day, it was still a school for magic, and that would always make it special, but she felt as if she had done everything. She told him of some of the adventures she had, how she had used a time turner to take every single class back in third year, and how she had ended up using it to help an innocent man escape from the Dementor’s Kiss.

Tom indulged her in her storytelling, sharing a few of his own stories as well. Apparently he had discovered a monster in the school once. It was targeting some of the students. Even managed to kill one. A terrible accident that could have been prevented, he said. The girl was in the wrong place at the wrong time. He didn’t say what it was exactly, but he did admit to having caught the person who let it in.

The two got so wrapped up in their conversation, that Hermione forgot where she was and what she had been doing before, at least until Madam Pince came over to see how she was making out. Hermione felt a bit embarrassed at having gotten distracted.

“I’m sorry, Madam Pince, I’m almost finished. I only have half a shelf left.” she apologized.

The strict librarian nodded. “Well then, you’d best finish quickly. I’ll be closing up in twenty minutes.”

She raised a brow at Tom, her scrutinizing gaze passing over him, but said nothing more as she turned to leave, disappeared behind the many shelves behind them.

Getting to her feet, she quickly gathered her things back into her bag and hurried back over to the section she had been in before. Much to her surprise, Tom had gotten up as well and followed her. The diary was still where she had left it on the table. That brought an intriguing theory to mind. She wondered just how far he could wander from the book before it pulled him back in.

“Are you in detention?”

Hermione shook her head, understanding why he might think that. “No, I just like organizing books. I do so regularly, when I have nothing better to do.”

Eager to finish the job quickly, as Madam Pince had advised, she decided to make use of the opportunity to practice her wandless magic, levitated the remaining pile of books into the air, moving them this way and that into their proper places.

“Impressive,” he said with a smirk. “I was not aware they taught wandless magic at Hogwarts.”

Hermione felt her cheeks heat up. “They don’t, strictly speaking. I suppose you could call that my latest challenge.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell.”

And she believed him.

With her job done, she returned to the desk, picking up the diary to give it another look before turning and reaching out to hand it back to him. She wasn’t sure what he planned to do now that she had freed him, but she suspected that he would want to go back in and wait for the next witch or wizard to find him.

“If you don't mind, I’d like you to keep it,” he said, pushing the diary back towards her, a small jolt of electricity pulsing through her as he placed his hand against hers. “It’s been a while since I’ve had such stimulating company, and as you can probably imagine, it’s rather lonesome being confined inside of a book.”

She nibbled on her lower lip, running the idea through her mind. She couldn’t lie and pretend that she didn’t want to keep the find to herself, but at the same time she felt as though she should tell someone about it. Though, she supposed that it did seem harmless enough.

Not to mention that he was the first person, let alone boy, she actually connected with on an intellectual level.

"Alright, you can stay, but we'll have to be careful. You can't just pop out whenever you please. You'll have to wait until I'm alone."

He nodded his head in understanding. "Of course. I wouldn't want you to get in trouble on my behalf," he assured her.

He walked with her out of the library, insisting it was only proper that he should see her safely back to her common room. It was a bit of an odd gesture, not that she minded all that much. She reminded herself that he was from 1943, a time when people still lived by a code of etiquette. 

Luckily for them, there weren’t many other students out and about in the halls at that hour, and the few who were, didn’t pay them any notice. Hermione stopped just around the corner when the Fat Lady’s Portrait came into view, turning back to Tom.

“It’s been a pleasure meeting you, Hermione,” he said, giving her a charming smile. “I look forward to speaking with you again.”

Once more a bright light shot out of the diary, forcing itself open in her hands. When it dimmed, she found that she was alone again. Tom was nowhere in sight. 

Thus, her friendship with Tom Riddle began…

* * *

For the next several months Hermione kept the diary with her, charming it so that it looked like an ordinary muggle notebook to everyone else. This allowed her to take it with her to classes, rather than hiding it away in her dorm where she feared one of her roommates would find it. They weren’t exactly the greatest at respecting privacy.

She hadn’t told anyone yet, not even Harry and Ron, frightened that they would think her a hypocrite for keeping the diary to herself when she had told McGonagall about the Firebolt Harry received back in third year. She now understood how Harry must have felt. It was special to him, and he didn’t want to part with it. She felt the same way about the diary.

As a result of her secrecy, she had to distance herself from her friends, taking advantage of every opportunity she got to go off somewhere private to meet with Tom. Most days, she would go to the library, knowing that was one place that wouldn’t raise too much suspicion. Besides, if there was one thing that Tom and her shared, it was their love of books. Not only could she discuss books that were magic related, but she could also discuss muggle books too.

It was exhilarating to be able to gush over her old favorites like Charles Dickens’ Great Expectations, and F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby. There were very few students who were familiar with muggle literature, and those who were, weren’t generally all that interested in reading them. Harry, being one of them.

Of course, as with any secret that needed to be kept, they did encounter a few close calls.

One particularly warm day, she decided to take the diary and head out to the lake, finding a shady tree to sit under before letting Tom out. In the blink of an eye Tom was seated beside her, a smirk playing across his lips.

“Finally decided to let me see the light of day, did you?”

It wasn’t so much that Hermione hadn’t wanted to, but rather she was afraid it might be too risky. In the castle, it was easy enough to duck around a corner or into a darkened alcove if she saw a teacher coming. That was what she was scared of the most. She knew it wasn’t like her, but keeping such a secret from everyone had made her paranoid.

In a way, there was something almost exhilarating about it all. She had never been one to live on the edge before, being a bit of a stickler for the rules, so this was completely new territory to her. Sneaking around with Tom brought a sense of thrill to her life. It wasn’t like the adventures she had with Ron and Harry, where they were more often than not fighting for their lives. It was a good kind of thrill.

“I thought that perhaps we could experiment with an idea I had,” she explained, digging into her pocket to take out what looked like ordinary galleons to the untrained eye, but in reality were fake. “What if we took the Protean Charm and found a way to alter it to transport objects, or even people, instantly between certain points? It would be like apparating, only less unpleasant.”

Tom raised a dark brow. “That is an interesting idea. I’ve tried a similar alteration of the Protean Charm as a means of contacting others, but never for transportation.”

The two of them often discussed magical theories, swapping ideas that they had on how certain spells could be improved upon. It was one of their favorite things to do together, apart from read. It was remarkable just how much they could accomplish when they put their brilliant minds together. They even ended up teaching each other new things, things that the other didn’t know.

In only a short amount of time, the two of them had charmed the coins, making the appropriate adjustments. To test whether it worked, Hermione had Tom take one of the coins and place it down on the ground twenty feet away. She decided to start with something small; a hairpin that didn’t mean much if broken. Setting it down directly on the coin’s surface. Within seconds it was gone.

“It worked!” Tom called.

Picking both the hairpin and the coin up, he came back to show her the results. The hairpin was intact, not a scratch or dent on it.

Hermione smirked in satisfaction. This was only the beginning of a great new breakthrough.

They were about to try testing it with something else, something a bit bigger, when they were interrupted by the arrival of a certain blonde slytherin and his friends, Crabbe and Goyle. Hermione swore under her breath as she quickly tucked the coins into her pocket.

“Well-well-well, what do we have here?” Draco taunted. “If it isn’t the frizzy-haired know-it-all and her…”

He stopped when he noticed Tom standing beside her, raising a scrutinizing brow at him that only dropped when he saw the green and silver of his tie and neckline. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t believe we’ve met,” Draco turned to him, momentarily forgetting about Hermione.

She could hardly suppress the urge to roll her eyes at just how quickly his attitude could change depending on which house you were in. It was unbelievable.

“No, I don’t believe we have,” Tom said, eyeing the blonde boy with distaste.

“I’m Draco, Draco Malfoy, and these are my friends, Crabbe and Goyle.”

Draco extended his hand towards Tom, but Tom just stood there, staring down at him, his hands never leaving his sides.

“Tom Riddle.”

“Tom Riddle? I’ve not heard that name before. Are you new to Hogwarts?”

Wishing to avoid explaining how and why no one had seen Tom before, she cleared her throat to draw Draco’s attention back to her.

“Don’t you have better things to do than bother us, Malfoy?”

Draco frowned, glancing back and forth between the two of them. “Wait… Are the two of you together?”

Her cheeks heated up. “That’s none of your business!” 

She hadn’t really thought about it before, but she supposed she could see why they might give him that impression. Not that they actually were, or anything… At least, she didn’t think they were. Though, she supposed the idea wasn’t all that disagreeable. The more she thought about it, the more it actually sounded like it might be kind of nice. She had never been in an actual serious relationship with anyone, never able to imagine herself with anyone before. However, with Tom, she could imagine it… She could imagine it well...

“You might want to rethink your decision, Riddle,” Draco warned. “I’m assuming you're unaware of how things work around here, but Gryffindors and Slytherins don’t mix. You’d be better off to find yourself a nice Slytherin girl.”

For some reason, that infuriated Hermione to no end. Whipping her wand out, she pointed it straight at Draco’s pale, pointy face. “Why you fowl, loathsome, evil little cockroach!”

She had him right where she wanted him, squirming nervously at the end of her wand, his eyes scrunched shut in anticipation. She was prepared to jinx him, the incantation on the tip of her tongue, but she stopped as she felt Tom’s hands on her forearm, urging her to lower her wand. She allowed him to do so, knowing that he was right for stopping her. As much as she wanted to get back at him for all the horrible things he had done to her and all the horrible names he had called her, she knew that retaliating would only get her in trouble. Draco would go running straight to Umbridge.

When nothing happened, Draco dared to open his eyes. Seeing that Tom had stopped her, he pulled himself together, a smug smirk emerging across his face. “See what I mean? Gryffindor’s are so uncivilized. They can’t even handle the truth.”

“On the contrary, I thought Hermione handled the situation quite well,” Tom returned the smirk with one of his own. “The only reason I stopped her was so that I could have the pleasure of putting you in your place myself.”

Then, before either Hermione or Draco could fully comprehend what he meant by that, Tom had his wand out and was silently uttering an incantation. Levitating the blonde from the ground, he began to swing him around and around in circles above his head before sending him flying into the middle of the lake.

A few moments later, Draco surfaced from under the water, flailing his arms around like a mad man. “Help! Somebody help! I can’t swim!”

Crabbe and Goyle let out a pair of startled yelps as they ran in to help him, calling to him to kick his legs.

Hermione was gobsmacked. Not only had Tom just stood up for her in front of Draco Malfoy, but he also got revenge on him for her as well. A part of her wanted to be appalled, to tell him that he needn’t have done that, but the other part of her, which incidentally was more dominant in that moment, was too pleased to care. That would teach Draco not to mess with them.

“Now, shall we get back to our experiment? Perhaps in a different location?”

Hermione nodded, and gathering up the rest of her things, the two of them started off back towards the castle.

* * *

Later that day, after dinner, the two of them settled at their regular desk at the back of the library. They had finished up with their experiment, at least for the day, and were now working on her homework. Hermione, however, was a bit more distracted than usual, unable to get the incident down by the lake out of her head.

“Can I ask you something, Tom?”

“Technically, you just did, but go ahead,” he replied cheekily.

She rolled her eyes.

“Do Slytherins get along with Gryffindors in your time?”

It was a question that had been on her mind for quite some time. He was clearly a Slytherin himself, and yet he didn’t treat her as if she was dirt beneath his shoe, like some Slytherins she knew did.

“Not really. Everyone knows of the bad blood between Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin, and there have been a few incidents over the years, but we generally try to avoid each other,” he explained. “Why do you ask?”

She shrugged. “I was just wondering why you’re so nice to me. I mean, I know I’m the one who found your diary, but I’m still a Gryffindor, as well as a muggleborn. Most of the Slytherins I’ve encountered are quite fond of reminding me of that fact, as you’ve probably noticed.”

“You’re a… muggleborn?” he asked, his dark eyes widening with a mixture of shock and something else.

She nodded, feeling herself tense. This was the first time they had discussed things like blood status. She had held off until then, unsure of how he would react. However, she wasn’t about to let him, or anyone else, think that she wasn’t proud of who she was.

“Personally, I don’t think it should matter whether you come from a magical family or not. It’s not like we can choose our parents. We all possess magical abilities, some more so than others. I’ve seen purebloods who can barely levitate a feather, for that matter.”

He didn’t respond at first, as he seemed to be lost in his thoughts, and for that brief period, Hermione thought that he might disappear on her then and there because of what she had said, but he didn’t. He just stayed there, staring at her intensely, as if he was searching for something.

“You make a valid point. I’m a half-blood myself, and yet I find myself able to accomplish things that the rest of Slytherin could only dream of.”

She breathed a small sigh of relief. Despite his earlier reaction, he didn’t seem to hold her to contempt for being muggleborn. That was good because she knew she wouldn’t have been able to continue spending time with him if he did.

“As for why I’m nice to you… Well, that’s rather simple. I like you. You’re different from all the other girls I know. You value power and knowledge, much like myself,” he continued. “What about you? Why are you nice to me, when you seem to have a bad impression of Slytherins?”

She didn’t even pause to consider her answer. “My reason is similar. You’re not like the other boys I know. You haven’t mentioned ‘quidditch’ even once, and as you’ve just proven, you don’t think less of me because of who my parents are.”

He smiled. “Then that’s that.”

Leaning forward across the desk, he reached out and took her face in his hands, stroking her cheeks with his thumbs as he closed the distance between them, claiming her lips in a tender kiss.

Her heart skipped a beat, a shiver running through her at the feeling of his warm breath against her face. Even so, his lips themselves were cold and surprisingly soft, molding against hers perfectly, as if they were created to be that way. Instinctively, her arms began to wind their way around his neck, attempting to pull him even closer, at which point Tom shifted himself around the desk to her side.

A part of her worried that he might notice that her skills in this particular department were lacking. She had only ever been kissed once before, by Viktor Krum, who didn’t exactly seem to have all that much experience himself. It was a clumsy kiss to put it mildly. She had to admit that, in comparison, this one was much better.

Unfortunately, they were interrupted soon after, as Madam Pince caught them and ordered them out of the library. 

Tom walked her back to her common room, as he always did, but didn’t say a word to her as they walked, his face stoic. Then with nothing more than a nod to the head, Tom slipped back into the diary and out of sight again.

She was tempted that night to get up and try writing to him, asking him about the kiss and how he felt about it, but held back, not wanting to risk waking anyone up.

The next morning, she got up, got dressed, packed her bag according to the classes she had that day, making sure to slip the diary in as well, and headed down for a quick breakfast before heading to her first class of the day. Taking a seat at her desk, she pulled out her bag and began to unpack it.

Tom’s diary was gone.

Panic overtook her as she turned her bag inside and out in search of it. When she still failed to find it, she bent down to search the floor surrounding the desk, thinking that perhaps it had fallen out. It was nowhere in sight.

“Is something the matter, Miss Granger?” the sight of Professor Umbridge’s polished pink shoes in front of her alerted her to the dreadful woman's presence before even the sound of her voice.

“I-I seem to have misplaced my notebook,” she said, straightening her posture. “I must have dropped it on my way.”

“Not to worry, dear child,” Umbridge said, a big fake grin plastered across her face. “I’ll find you a bit of parchment to use instead.”

Hermione forced herself to nod, unable to come up with a good enough excuse to leave as more students started to walk in. There was no reason to get so worked up over something so simple, at least not as far as everyone else was concerned. To them, it was just a notebook, but to her it was much more than that.

She went in search of it as soon as she could, retracing her steps to all the places she had been prior to class. It wasn’t in her dorm room, or in the common room. She asked if anyone there had seen it, but no one had. It wasn’t in the Great Hall, nor was it in the Lost and Found. In one last effort to try and find it, she went back to the library, apologized to Madam Pince and asked if she had seen the notebook. Sadly, it was no use. She hadn’t seen it. She even went and checked the shelf she had originally found it on. Tom’s diary was nowhere to be found.

For two weeks, she remained hopeful, continuing to look for it every free moment she got, convinced that the diary would resurface somehow. Then, the school year ended and she was forced to give up. She left for summer holidays that year with a heavy heart. She tried to convince herself that it was for the best, that it wouldn’t have worked out anyway, what with him being the memory of a student in the 1940’s that was bound to a book, but still she couldn’t help but miss him.

She had fallen in love with Tom Riddle; the boy in the book...

**Author's Note:**

> Just a note: This is intended to act as a Prequel to a longer Tomione fic I intend to write at a later time. Also, as this is an AU, it completely disregards everything that happened in the third book/movie, with the Chamber of Secrets and what not. Pretend that never happened.


End file.
